‘La primera víctima de la guerra es la inocencia.’

The fresh scent of the fuego is burned into my memory. I remember it like it was yesterday, everything, I can remember how the calor from the inferno felt against my face, I still hear the echoes of their screams some noches when I am alone.

This was the night that shaped me, it changed me, created me. It was my primera.

‘Chico, come in here’ – He yelled from behind his desk.

‘Si, Patron.’ – With a tremble in my voice as I entered.

‘It’s time. Your time, Hermano.’ – A pause to sip the tequila in his right hand before he continued.

‘I need something done and I need it to be a message, clear as day.’ – Another pause.

‘A Hombre, he saw something that he wasn’t supposed to see. I need it to go away…’ – He stared at me intensely, his eyes almost piercing into my soul.

‘Si, Patron’ – I nodded, backing out of the room quickly.

Dolly, it seems you’re the one who is destined to be my primera here, the first on my list and my real introducción to OSW. Our destinies are both sealed, our paths are now intertwined like a young chica’s braided hair…

The noches was cold and dry, the stars the only beacon of light above as I waited in hiding for the hombre to return home. I watched silently, intently as his car pulled into his drive. I felt my palms get sweaty; precipitation fall from my brow as I reached down to grab the can of gasolina beside me.

Unfortunately, at Slam all your innocence and all your integrity will be shown to be invaluable. You’ll learn why they call me El Frio! I’m the cold breeze upon the back of your neck, the gentle rustling outside your window while you rest safely in your bed, the monster your Madre and Padre promised you didn’t exist… I am inescapable, inexorable… I am your definitive end.

With the doors locked from the outside and gasolina surrounding the home, I took a moment before striking the match. For this home, this place of safety was to become a place of muerte and finality.

You see Dolly, my whole life I’ve been a messenger of muerte and misery, a weapon simply pointed in one direction. It seems that destino has pointed my crosshairs directly at you this time, once someone falls into those crosshairs their destino is sealed, it is inevitable.

I’ve watched grown hombres run, cry and plead for their lives, for their families.

You can run to the safety of your dollhouse; I don’t need you to let me in. I’ll simply burn la casa down.

I struck the match and watched the flame burn before dropping it upon the gasolina. Instantly the fire took, illuminating the previously dark noches sky.

It was at this moment that my eyes darted to the bedroom window, where I saw the hombre with a young innocent chica in his arms.

But in WAR, sometimes even the innocent must meet God.